Here Be Monsters
by Soleya
Summary: Teamfic. SG-1 discovers an island nation with force shields to keep it safe. But... safe from what?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, and I'll never make enough money for that to change.

Inspired by a snippet from "The Three Musketeers." Which is to say that when this takes a really weird turn, it's not entirely my fault.

Thanks to polrobin for the beta.

* * *

Jack O'Neill stepped out of the open, shimmering vortex of the Stargate and headed down the steps, clearing the tiny platform for the team that would follow. "Wow," a female voice said from behind him. "It's really beautiful."

"Just like the pictures."

A bland smile on her face, Sam Carter moved to his side. "I didn't see the video feed from the MALP, sir. I was in my lab. Working."

 _I have better things to do than stare over Walter's shoulder all day_ , the smile said. And it was probably true, Jack thought – but he sure didn't. And neither, most of the time, did Teal'c, who'd already seen the images and took in their surroundings with mild disinterest.

"I saw the pictures," the team archaeologist spoke up, "but I don't think I quite got it. The symbolic nature of it all."

"The huh?"

"Well, you know," he insisted. "The city built on water. The seven spires."

Slowly, Major Carter circled the island – tiny and clearly man-made, the perfect circle wasn't much wider than the gate itself. But surrounding them were much larger land masses, the strikingly blue water spanned by long, low bridges that met the mainlands through massive arches and long staircases. Seven bridges, seven arches, seven enormous spires atop them.

Jack shoved his compass back in his vest. "And not a damn one of them on a cardinal direction."

"I doubt that's what they're based on, Jack," Daniel said.

"Perhaps there is some astronomical significance," Teal'c mused.

"Or," Sam said, "the Colonel _used_ to be right and there's been some sort of shift in the planet's magnetic north."

The archaeologist narrowed his eyes at her. "Don't encourage him."

She only grinned in response.

"She can take my side any time she damn well pleases. Which way?"

"Um, well... I'd really like to take a look at those," Daniel said, gesturing past the southerly spires to the tall, clearly Ancient structures behind them, "but first, we should probably talk to the locals. You know, just in case."

Sam glanced down the bridges to the empty plazas surrounding them and said, "And where would you recommend we do that?"

"Yeah, where is everybody?" her CO asked.

"There." One long, dark finger pointed toward a young woman in the distance as Teal'c asked, "You believe them to be Ancients?"

She certainly didn't appear to be anything special – as with most of the cultures SG-1 had encountered, she wore rustic clothing in shades of brown. It wasn't what anyone would have expected of a race as powerful as the Ancients.

"I think we shouldn't judge," the younger man decided. "You never know."

"But I've got a pretty good idea." Jack's sarcastic drawl earned a sharp look. "Lead on."


	2. Chapter 2

"Anybody feel like a swim?"

"I had the same thought, sir," Sam answered wryly.

Daniel glanced back at them – briefly, though, because the bridge was only maybe eight feet wide, narrow enough to make it uncomfortable to walk side by side. "What?"

"No railings," she said. "Either these people are really good swimmers, or they drown a lot."

She had a point – the bridge was more of a dual-ended pier, open and close to the water. It would be especially hazardous in the dark, though the poles every twenty feet or so likely provided light at night. "Maybe they don't come out here much," the archaeologist said with a shrug.

"Or perhaps they merely do not wander to the edge," Teal'c suggested, as though it were the most obvious, logical answer in the world.

Jack shot him a look. "You calling us dumb, Teal'c?"

"Take it as you will."

"He's calling us dumb, Carter."

"I think it's more 'easily distracted,' sir," the Major mused. "Gotta say, though, the openness is giving me a little bit of vertigo."

His next glance was cautious as he stepped closer and took a solid grip on her arm. A fall wouldn't be the worst thing in the world – she could swim – but a soaking wet uniform would be a definite wrinkle. "Yeah, well, even if _you_ want a swim, _I_ don't, so let's stick to the bridge, huh?"

"Yes, sir. The islands should be better." They still had no real railings to speak of, just a row of benches at the edge, but at least they sat higher off the water. The stairs were safe, though – by Earth standards, anyway – and Jack released his grip as his 2IC wrapped her fingers around the center hand rail.

The young woman stood at the top, a short, round man beside her. "Travelers," he greeted. "It has been many years since anyone has arrived through the portal."

"Hello," Daniel offered with a wave. "It's nice to meet you. I'm Daniel Jackson, and this is Jack O'Neill, Sam Carter, and Teal'c. We're explorers from a world called Earth."

"Welcome to Sienis. I am Teren, Curate. This is Lita."

"We'd love to learn more about you," the eager archaeologist said. "Your culture. Your history. Those buildings." He hiked a thumb behind him.

"Certainly," the Curate offered. "We're always happy to share our beliefs."

Jack exchanged a silent look first with his second, then Teal'c. SG-1 didn't _always_ run into trouble on planets run by religion… but it was probably better than half the time. Having a scientist, an archaeologist, and an alien on the team usually hurt more than it helped.

The young woman caught the look and told him, "And our history. You're welcome to go anywhere you like, but perhaps you might start at the library."

Daniel's eyes flew wide. "Most of my favorite places are libraries."

Behind him, Jack's wry mutter was only loud enough to reach Sam Carter's ears. "You don't say."


	3. Chapter 3

Teren retreated to a building that looked like a church in just about any language while the young alien woman led them across some sort of municipal plaza toward the bridge to the next island – around the circumference of the seven outer islands, rather than back through the Gate island in the center. The plaza was a large oval with water on one side of the curve and large buildings and open markets on the other… but they were all empty.

"Lita," Carter asked carefully, "I don't mean to sound rude, but… where is everybody? These buildings were clearly made to house a lot of people, and yet…."

"It is the planting," the young woman explained. "Most are in the fields. Some of the women have stayed behind to tend the little ones and prepare meals. And the Curate is here, of course." Glancing around the empty park, she mused, "I suppose it does look quite empty. They will return this evening when the work is done."

Lita led them across the stone plaza past the large spire they'd seen from the Gate. It had to be three stories tall, and Jack intentionally kept walking as both his geeks craned their necks to look at it – one for inscriptions, the other trying to figure out if it _did_ anything. The bridge between land masses was just as open as the one to the Gate, with matching light poles, and SG-1 trotted down the dozen steps behind their guide. Well, three of them did. Daniel was still staring over his shoulder, missed the first drop, and only recovered without breaking anything because Teal'c grabbed his arm. "Whoops," he said.

" _No diving_ ," Jack reminded him sternly.

"Right. Sorry."

The island they'd left was clearly the center of their little civilization, with meeting halls and the church and the center square. The one SG-1 stepped onto next was a bit more… suburban. There were no large, open spaces – just a few blocks of old buildings. Some advertised clothing and other goods in the windows. And behind the commercial buildings were tiny houses in neat little rows.

"Interesting layout," Jack muttered.

He hadn't meant to be heard, but Lita supplied, "We no longer see many travelers through the portal, but we know of its importance to our ancestors. The town center will always encircle it. In the outlands, we raise our livestock and grow our crops. Except on the south island."

Daniel grabbed the obvious question. "What's on the south island?"

"We are not entirely certain," the young woman told him. "I believe it is the ancestors' town. Where they worshiped, perhaps. The buildings have fallen into disrepair, but no one would dare take them down. That island is too small for farming, anyway."

"I'd like to take a look at those buildings," the archaeologist said.

"How'd I know that?" Jack drawled. "You wanna skip the library?"

Beside him, Carter chuckled. "You might as well ask him if he wants to give up oxygen, sir."

"Actually, that depends," Daniel clipped, annoyed. "Is there a library on the south island?"

"There is," Lita told him, but before he could open his mouth again, she said, "The roof caved in decades ago. The surviving books were brought here."

"Then here sounds good to me."

~/~

Jack nibbled on a protein bar, debating whether they should take an official lunch break. He decided against it – not because they were short on time, but because it wouldn't matter, anyway. Daniel was already rapt in dusty book number four, and he wasn't stopping any time soon. Teal'c held a book Lita had given him and was patiently listening to her tell him all about it. Carter was flipping through on her own – probably looking for pictures.

 _Diagrams_ , Jack reminded himself. He looked for pictures. Carter looked for _diagrams_. But she obviously didn't find any in that volume; she reshelved it and pulled out the next old one.

"Hey, Sam, take a look at this."

"Find something interesting?" she asked, tucking the book under her arm to join her teammate.

"Maybe. Is that what I think it is?"

"That would depend on what you think it is," Jack drawled.

But Sam's brows furrowed as she took the book from his hands, intently studying the drawing – _diagram –_ inside. "Huh."

The three men watched her for a moment until it became suddenly clear that Major Sam Carter had disappeared, lost in the science and complexity of whatever she'd just found. "Well," Jack said finally, "since she's clearly not going to tell us what it _is_ , why don't you tell us what you _think_ it is, Daniel."

"Force shields," she murmured absently. "A series of them, all around the islands. This is fascinating."

Suddenly interested, the Colonel and Teal'c exchanged a look. "As in, _defensive_ force shields?"

"Could such technology be adapted for the defense of Earth?" the Jaffa asked.

"What?" Blinking, Carter looked up. "Oh. No."

Immediately, Jack stopped caring.

"Remember the towers we've seen all along the islands? Like street lights? They're actually shield transmitters," she explained, tilting the book to point at a line drawing that obviously meant something to a physicist but might as well have been a paint by numbers game to Jack. "If I'm right, they form an invisible wall all around the perimeter about twelve feet tall."

"Perhaps these people have suffered from marauders in the past," Teal'c suggested.

"What, like Vikings?" Jack perked up a bit. "Cool."

"You sure? I haven't found anything about that." Frowning, Daniel turned to the librarian. "Lita? Can you tell us what these are for?"

Setting her book aside, the young woman joined Sam, craning her neck to get a good view of the image. "Certainly. They protect us from the water."

"Vikings," Jack confirmed. "Sweet."

She blinked. "I... don't know what that means."

"Invaders," Teal'c supplied.

"On our planet, Vikings were men who attacked mainland countries from outlying islands," Daniel told her. "Have you heard of something like that in your history?"

"Men," Lita echoed blankly. "No. I don't believe you understand. The _circalas_ keep us safe from the seas."

Uncertain, the members of SG-1 glanced at each other for a moment before Jack said, "Seems like a pretty complicated, over-engineered solution for a hand rail, if you ask me. We could teach you to swim, you know."

"No one would ever do such a thing," the woman gasped, scandalized. "It would be suicide."

Again, it took them a minute to formulate a response. "Lita," Sam asked gently, "what's wrong with the water?"

Flatly, as though it were the most obvious thing in the world, she said, "The water is where the monsters are."


	4. Chapter 4

Daniel found his voice first. "I'm sorry. Monsters?"

"As in Nessie?" Jack asked.

"What?"

"There's a legend on our world," Sam explained to the poor, extremely confused native. "A mythical serpent in a body of water called Loch Ness."

"Perhaps this world is the origin of such a myth," Teal'c suggested.

"Or any of countless others." With a frown, the archaeologist began to count them off on his fingers. "Let's see, there's the Greek Hydra. Norse mythology tells of Jormungandr, sworn enemy of Thor."

Sam shook her head. "Sorry, Daniel, but these buildings aren't Asgard."

"The Aztecs had Cipactli, a combination of crocodile, fish, and toad with an extra mouth on every joint," he went on, completely unphased. "Saint Brendan mistook the giant fish Jasconius for an island and-"

"And... you're done," Jack interrupted. "Although you forgot Chessie."

Daniel scowled at him. "I'd have gotten there."

"What if they're symbiotes?"

Jack and Daniel promptly stopped bickering and turned to stare at Sam. "What?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," she insisted. "Remember the Pangarans? Or P3X-888?"

"Didn't the Goa'uld come after the Ancients?" the Colonel asked.

The rest of his team shrugged. "They certainly came to power after them, but that's not saying they couldn't coexist," Daniel said. "Maybe it was before they took human hosts?"

"Lita, what do these monsters look like?" Sam pressed.

"I do not know," the woman insisted. "They have never been seen."

" _Invisible_ sea monsters," Jack mused sarcastically, shooting a challenging look Daniel's way.

"Could be an Ashray," Daniel shot back. "From Scottish myth."

"Yeah. Whatever." Turning back to the native woman, the Colonel asked, "If no one's ever seen them, what makes you think they're there?"

"Perhaps the monsters are but rumor, made up long ago. Nonetheless, the water is forbidden. It is written in the commandments." Smiling, she added, "The gods surely would not have forbidden it without cause."

"Surely." Unlike Jack's sarcasm, Teal'c's probably went right over Lita's head. There was a reason, certainly, but that reason didn't necessarily include the good of the people – just the needs of whoever had made the rules. "We should investigate further."

Sam nodded. "I'll have to figure out how to take a section of field emitters offline so we can get to the shore."

"But you can't do that!"

"We'll choose a place away from town," Sam assured her. "We won't put anyone in danger."

She looked unconvinced, and Jack waved a hand across his throat to tell her to cut it out – they didn't need to give the woman any more details; they'd just do what they had to do. "Let's move on," he said. "Carter, see if there's anything else in that book that's useful. Daniel, you figured out what those buildings are yet?"

"Well, no, I-"

"Back to it, then."

~/~

It wasn't just the changing light through the windows that gave away the late hour; the town started to come alive. One woman walked past the window, then another, then a group of men. They were talking and laughing, friendly, chasing away the silence of the ghost town SG-1 had first seen. "Dinner will be ready soon. Will you join us?" Lita asked.

"Sounds like a plan," Jack answered with a shrug. Homemade meals were (usually) better than his MREs, and while Carter and Daniel still had their noses buried in books, they had to eat. "Daniel," he called, a high-low pitch like one might use on a dog. "Real live culture. Let's go."

"Oh! Great!" the archaeologist exclaimed, and Jack rolled his eyes as the rest of his team carefully put their books away and grabbed their gear.

The world they stepped into was thriving. Women carried baskets of fruits and breads and men talked in groups. There were children everywhere – young ones stuck close to their parents, but the slightly older bunch darted through the adults in a game of tag. Several teenagers gathered near the edge of the island playing something that looked a lot like handball.

Of course, there was no wall at the edge of the island. Over and over, they batted the ball toward the edge and the force shield glittered teal and purple and returned it at speed.

"Fascinating," Carter murmured.

"I'm telling you; a railing would be cheaper," Jack answered as they headed down the steps to the crowded bridge. His science geek didn't make it much further, though; he watched as she reached out a hand and pulled it back as the purple energy of the shield caught and repelled it. "Having fun?"

Her eyes darted his way just for a second. "Actually, it kind of helps the vertigo, sir. Knowing there's something here." One hand found his upper arm, and he raised an eyebrow at it as she squeezed his bicep until she reached for the wall again and leaned heavily into it.

Jack wasn't sure he'd have committed quite that far, even with somebody to hold onto. He was curious, though, and reached out for himself. There was no shock, no electric sensation as the shield kicked in. It was pure repulsion, as though he'd tried to put two magnets together the wrong way. "Huh."

"Yes, sir. I really want to get a look at one of these emitters." Satisfied – for the moment – she started down the bridge toward food.

"Tomorrow," he promised her. "South island. Old buildings. No people. Poke around all you want."

The smile she gave him was a thousand times more dazzling than any old force shield could ever be.


	5. Chapter 5

The Science Twins wasted no time getting to work as SG-1 crossed over the second bridge to the south island. Daniel abandoned his pack but for a camera and a notepad. Carter ignored the Ancient buildings completely, heading instead for the spire at the shoreline beside them. Still, they looked nearly identical, noses practically brushing the artifacts in front of them, fingers skimming them delicately as glass. Daniel's camera shutter sounded first, but the scrape of a knife on metal caught Jack's attention.

"Whatcha doin'?" he asked, heading toward the shore.

"I think the access panel is here," Carter answered, slipping the blade carefully into a crack in the tower. "If I can just..."

A piece of casing as big as her torso popped loose and leaned out. Sliding it aside, she flipped on her flashlight and began a preliminary examination of the circuitry. It was a long, excruciating silence (for Jack, anyway), before she said simply, "Huh."

"Huh?" Was that good or bad? Or indifferent? The Colonel didn't see anything particularly amazing about the crystal structure – not that he'd know, but he tried. Sometimes.

Pushing to her feet without an answer, she stepped to the right of the spire and carefully put out a hand. As he'd expected, teal and purple crackled around the intrusion and repelled it. Moving to the other side of the emitter, she tried again, with the same result.

"What did you think was gonna happen, exactly?" he asked dryly.

"That."

"Ah."

Without further explanation, leaving all her gear next to the open tower, she moved twenty feet to the next emitter and tried again. And got the same result. And a third time. And a fourth. But at the fifth section, her hand passed right through where the shield should have been – no light, no force at all. She shot a grim look down the shore at her commander as she waved her arm in the gap.

"So much for having to disable it," he called out.

She headed back to him at a trot. "I was afraid of that. This circuitry is a mess."

"Well, you know, it was just so hard to find good help in those days."

"I think it's just age," she answered flatly, ignoring (or not even hearing) the joke. "And exposure. Sea air can cause rapid corrosion."

"Do you believe you can repair it?" Teal'c stepped up next to Colonel O'Neill in interest.

"Maybe this one. Or a few. But I'm not sure how much difference that will make."

"Indeed."

Jack glanced at the two of them, lost. Thankfully, he didn't have to say anything, as Daniel chose that moment to join the party and observe aloud, "Everybody looks tense."

"The shields are failing," Carter told him simply. "And if we assume these towers are roughly the same age as the other hundreds – thousands – on these islands, then they probably all are. I mean, it's a bell curve – a few, then a few more, then massive systemic failure."

"The villagers are awfully reliant on them," the archaeologist said.

She nodded.

"But for what?" Jack pointed out. "Protection from the invisible sea monsters? I still say there's nothing out there."

Digging through her pack, Carter produced a kit of water-tight vials and purple gloves. "Maybe it's time we find out."

"Yes," he drawled. "Because they'll swim right into those itty bitty tubes. No problem."

She grinned. "Tiny invisible sea monsters, sir. Little bitty ones."

"Great."


	6. Chapter 6

The people in the square were as joyous as ever, meandering the bridges and ledges without a care in the world. Two women sat on one of the low benches near the steps SG-1 took; the baby between them stood on shaky legs and batted at the colors in the energy wall between himself and the water. Across the inlet, on the next bridge, several boys played something that could only be described as force shield bumper bowling. And on the edge of the square, half a dozen teenagers played handball.

But unlike the night before, not a single member of SG-1 found in interesting. It was scary as hell.

"We have to tell them," Daniel spoke up. "What they're doing is dangerous."

"You're still assuming there's something in the water," Colonel O'Neill pointed out.

"No, Jack. I'm assuming they don't know how to swim."

There was that, and the older man frowned at being called out. "I'm sure they're gonna be thrilled to change their whole lifestyle based on our visit."

"There is no choice, O'Neill," Teal'c said flatly.

"Good evening. How was your…." Lita's gaze flickered between them a moment. "You look upset."

Jack and Daniel glanced at each other and then back to Carter, who stepped up between them. "Lita…." God, she hated giving bad news. "Some of the shield emitters on the south island have failed. They're old; they're-"

"They are Ancient," the other woman corrected.

"Yes," Sam offered with a nod. "But I didn't mean that in the good way."

"I do not understand."

"Um…. You see, the shields all around the islands are created by technology inside the spires – the lamp posts. And that technology is failing. As the circuitry goes down, the shields will start to go offline."

Lita's smile faltered. "Perhaps you should speak to Curate Teren."

"Sure." So they waited patiently while the young woman hurried into the dining hall and emerged with the squat little man in tow. Sam explained the situation from the beginning – that emitters on the south island had failed, and that the failure could spread rapidly throughout the town.

"Nonsense," the Curate told her flatly.

Carter blinked. "I'm sorry?"

"The _circalas_ will not fail."

Eyes wide, she glanced at the men on either side of her for help. Daniel jumped in first. "Respectfully, Curate, they _are_ failing. Some already _have_ failed. And when they do-"

"These islands were created for my ancestors," Teren argued. "It is written in the scriptures."

"Oh, boy," Jack muttered under his breath.

"The gods granted them the wisdom to build the _circalas_ to protect us from danger. They will never fail."

One eyebrow up, the Colonel asked, "Don't they also say you shouldn't go for a swim?"

"The water is forbidden," the little man agreed.

"Why must they forbid a thing you cannot access?" Teal'c asked.

Jack waved a thumb in the Jaffa's direction. "Exactly. Why tell you not to if you can't do it, anyway?"

"To… to… explain their reasoning," Teren spluttered.

"Or to give you guidance if it ever became a choice," Carter pointed out.

"To make the number of commandments nice and round; who knows?" Jack drawled. "The point is, the shields are failing, and you need to tell people that before somebody gets hurt."

The Curate's chest swelled in indignation, rendering him even more round and ridiculous than he'd been a moment before. "The _circalas_ are a gift from the gods," he pressed, "and the gods will sustain them."

And he walked away.

~/~

Dinner went on behind her, raucous, but Sam Carter stared up at the massive spire that rose and disappeared into the dark. What did it do? Was it a master transmitter for the shield system? Was it even related to the shields at all? She had to know. Sometimes she wished she had Daniel's language skills, because waiting for him to give her the information she craved could be painful.

"So, question."

She turned her head as the linguist stepped up beside her, a cup in hand. "Answer," she promised. "Maybe."

"If these islands are completely cut off from the water, where did this come from?"

She glanced at the beverage he held out and felt a little disappointed that the question was so easy. "Oh. Well, they wouldn't drink the ocean water, anyway, I wouldn't think. It's probably salt water, like on Earth. What we drink is either from precipitation – evaporated from large bodies of water and condensed in clouds, so practically distilled – or groundwater that's been filtered through sediment for ages. Don't get me wrong; I'm a big fan of our water purification systems at home, because cholera and cryptosporidium don't sound like much fun. But there's likely a huge difference between the water you're holding in your hand and the water beyond the shields."

"Huh," he said.

She seized her chance. "Have you translated any of this yet?"

"I haven't really had a chance to look at it." And when he glanced up into the dark, squinted, pulled off his glasses and squinted again, her hope waned. "I'll start on it when the sun comes up."

"Sure." Damn.

"Don't stand here in the dark; join the party," Daniel invited, and she watched him head back toward the others for a brief moment before she turned her attention back to the spire. There was a short access panel at the bottom – six feet wide, maybe, but only two feet tall – and she wondered if she could pop it loose herself. And then she wondered how much of a hermit misfit it would make her to do that in the middle of a social gathering.

And then she wondered where Colonel O'Neill was, because he was usually the one to put a stop to that kind of behavior.

"Major Carter."

It wasn't the Colonel who had stepped up beside her; it was Teren, and she turned to the pudgy little man with a forced smile. "Curate."

"I apologize if I seemed rude earlier, Major. It wasn't my intention," he told her smoothly, and the sudden change in demeanor made her blink. "It is just that we hold our beliefs so strongly."

"I… see," she managed, confused. "Sure."

"Are you a woman of faith, Major Carter?"

He stepped close to her – way too close – and set a hand on top of hers. And every single hair on her arms stood on end. "Uh…. I, uh…."

"I could help you. Bring you into the flock." His fingers curled around hers.

The words were pastoral, but the body language sure as hell wasn't, and she stammered, "I'm… really more of a loner. I…." Speaking of religion, where the _hell_ was her team? She glanced right and saw Daniel chatting with Lita, paying no attention at all to Teren or his teammate.

The Curate was so close she could feel his breath on her face as he spoke – well, on her neck, since he was a good foot shorter than she was. "If you're not comfortable in a group, we could work alone."

 _Oh, God_ and a dozen other blasphemous terms came to mind as she took a small step back. "Thank you, but I'm pretty comfortable with my… religion… as it is."

"Until you've experienced the true faith-"

 _Jesus, Mary, and Joseph_. Sam carefully extracted her hand and moved away again. "Thank you," she pressed. "But no."

"Sam-"

" _No_."

"If you change your mind-"

"I won't."

With a huff, he turned and headed for the others. She watched him, stunned, until he disappeared into the crowd and she could finally breathe again. Still, her brain spun a thousand miles an hour. Had that really just happened? Had a man of God just propositioned her? Maybe she'd misunderstood.

No, there was no misunderstanding that. Her hand still tingled uncomfortably where he'd touched her, and that he'd tried to couch the whole thing in religion made her stomach queasy.

"You doin' all right there, Major?" Colonel O'Neill's voice startled her, and she jumped a little as her head flew up. "You look… befuddled."

"Befuddled," she echoed wryly, still scrambling to get her thoughts in order. "Well, that's… a much more polite expression than what I'm currently feeling, so I guess the filter's working. Kind of. Passably, anyway."

One eyebrow slid up, both at what she'd said and the fact that she was babbling. "What are these terrible, impolite feelings you're having, exactly?"

"Horror. Disgust. Disbelief. No, scratch that last one; I probably shouldn't be using that term right now." As his other eyebrow joined the first, perched high, she told him, "I think Teren just hit on me, sir."

He blinked, stunned. "The priest?"

Her head bobbed about six more times than was necessary to make the point.

"You mean, like… marriage?" her CO managed, glancing over her shoulder at the throng of conservatively dressed religious people behind her.

"I didn't get that impression, no."

His gaze flitted between them for a moment, trying to make sense of that. Carter got hit on pretty routinely by other scientists… warlords… ascended beings… hell, by everybody and their brother, and Jack was grudgingly getting used to it. But a _priest_? Flummoxed, the only comeback he could come up with was, "She-devil."

The accusation made her snort so hard she choked, drawing glances from the villagers and leaving him to awkwardly pat her on the back as she coughed, doubled over. "Water?" he offered weakly.

"Please."

Jack skedaddled.


	7. Chapter 7

The rest of the evening had been more than a little uncomfortable with Curate Teren giving SG-1 the evil eye from the head table all night. He was still doing it, in fact, though presently it was through the thick glass of the church windows. "How long, you think, before he storms out here and accuses us of offending his gods by poking at this thing?" Jack asked, gesturing at the four legs – two slim and feminine, two thick as tree trunks – stuck out from under the tower.

"I was wondering that myself," Daniel told him, carefully bracing a piece of paper against a section of engravings to take a rubbing. The smaller posts around the edges – the shield emitters – only seemed to have a number carved into them, but the taller spire in the plaza had text all the way around it.

Crouching to make himself heard through the low access hatch Carter had opened, Jack called, "You figured out what this thing is for yet?"

"No, sir," her voice echoed back, slightly distorted.

"Damn." Grimacing at the twinge in his knees, the Colonel pushed back to standing, surveying the crowd around him. Either the planting was officially over or they observed a weekend, because it was the middle of the day and the plaza was brimming with people. Large areas were covered in blankets with picnickers; several couples were clearly just out for a stroll. Some of the benches held lovers or parents and their children. As ever, the teenagers played ball in one section. Something like a Frisbee had appeared, too, and Jack winced as a gust of wind lifted it and sent it sailing toward the edge of the island. The boy who chased it, unaware of any danger, put one foot on the bench seat and leaped into the air, rebounding off the shield as he caught the toy and fell back to the ground. It would have been a fantastic catch if it weren't so damned horrifying. "This isn't gonna end well," Jack muttered.

"What?" Daniel glanced up from a section of text just long enough to follow his friend's line of sight. "Yeah, I've been trying to figure out what to say to Curate Teren. How to convince him that the shields failing isn't some sort of affront to their beliefs."

"We may have to go around him."

"That probably isn't wise," the archaeologist warned. "From everything we've seen, he runs this town."

"That's all fine and dandy, Daniel. Except for the part where people drown." His knees didn't want him to crouch again, so Jack slid to sit beside the hatch this time. "You figure it out _now_?"

"Still no, sir," Carter called.

"Damn." Irked with the whole situation, Jack frowned out at the plaza and all the cheerful people in it – the young woman leaning casually back into the purple and teal glow as she chatted with a suitor, the man squatting just feet from the edge as he played tug with something dog-like, the woman who balanced her basket between her hip and the shield as she straightened her little girl's dress. He had to wonder if their cavalier, casual overuse of the shield was hastening its decline. "Hey, Carter?"

"Sir?"

The disc flew past again, the other kid hot on its trail this time as it arced right and headed for the water. The boy sped after it, tearing across the green; when he hit the benches at the edge of the field, he leapt as his friend had done only moments ago.

A high-pitched crackle filled the air as the shield flashed... and the boy flew right through it. One foot caught the wood and spun him, allowing only a half-scream before he plunged into the water below.


	8. Chapter 8

An eerie, shocked silence filled the plaza for a moment before the people erupted in mass panic. "Son of a bitch," Jack managed, struggling to his feet as Daniel dropped his work and Carter and Teal'c shoved their way out from beneath the spire.

"What happened?" he heard her ask, but he was already off, heart pumping hard as he sprinted for the water. The child couldn't have been more than ten, and he knew damn well that none of these people could swim. Worse, as he watched them crowd around the edge, they weren't even going to try.

"Out of the way!" he barked. "Make a hole!"

But it wasn't for him – Carter passed him fifty meters from the edge, her youth a clear advantage. She would beat him to the water by a long shot... but did he want her to? Lita's words echoed in his ears, over and over. _The water is where the monsters are..._

He was going to save the boy no matter what it took – that had always been the plan – but the idea of her doing it made his heart miss a beat. "Carter, wait!"

It was too late. Her right foot landed on the bench seat, her left on the back, and she took a long, graceful dive. He skidded to a halt at the edge just in time to see her feet disappear beneath the surface.

"Jack?"

Forcing the adrenaline and fear down, the Colonel surveyed the situation. The water was a good ten feet down – too big a distance for a rescue – but the bridges were far lower. "That way," he ordered the rest of his team, pointing to the staircase.

Ignoring the scuffle behind him and the sobbing that could only come from a mother, Jack stared intently at the deep blue, waiting, willing his second to surface. "Come on, Carter," he murmured. "Come on, come on, come on..."

All that came up were a few bubbles.

He had one foot on the bench seat to dive in after her when the Major burst to the surface, gasping for air, one arm wrapped tightly around the boy's chest. Red eyes met Jack's, and because he was certain that he would reprimand her out of panic if he opened his mouth, he pointed mutely to the bridge where the rest of SG-1 waited. With a nod, she headed that way, and he hurried through the crowd.

"I don't think he's breathing," she called as she paddled toward the waiting men, who tried to reach for her only to find the shielding in their section still in place. Teal'c zatted it once, then again, then shot the tower beside him, and it dissipated. Effortlessly, the Jaffa pulled the boy up and settled him on the dock.

"Got it," Jack told him. "Get Carter out of the water."

He was so small – not much bigger than Charlie had been – and the Colonel swallowed down the lump in his throat as he tipped the child's head back and began to gently breathe for him. "You can do it, buddy," he murmured between breaths. "Come on back."

"We've got Sam," Daniel announced for Jack's benefit, earning a nod.

"I do not sense the presence of a symbiote," Teal'c added as he pulled off his jacket and wrapped it tightly around his shivering friend. At her look, he added, "No more than I usually do."

Carter's words were broken by the chattering of her teeth. "I don't think a symbiote could live in that water. It's _cold_." Immediately, she found herself surrounded by the massive arms of her Jaffa teammate, and she sank into the warmth. "Sir?"

"Workin' on it, Car-"

The child coughed violently, his entire body shaking with the effort. Jack rolled him quickly to his side to let the water from his lungs. "It's okay," he soothed. "You're okay now."

A flash of movement caught Jack's eye just before a couple dropped to their knees beside them, gathering the boy tightly in her arms. The woman trembled every bit as much as the two who had been in the water – there was no mistaking their relationship. With a nod, Jack backed away, leaving them to comfort their son.

"What have you done?"

It was the bitterness, the fury in the words that drew SG-1's attention. Curate Teren stood on the bottom step, hands fisted, staring straight at Carter. "Excuse me?" she managed.

"You have defied the will of the gods!"

It was Jack's turn that time; he stepped squarely between the Curate and his second. " _Excuse_ me?"

"The water is forbidden. It is death!" he fumed. "It is written in the commandments."

"So what?" Jack challenged, ignoring the crowd of onlookers forming behind him. "We were supposed to stand by and let the kid drown? Like everybody else did?"

For a long moment, the man looked like he might physically come after them – and the mob might not have been far behind. Teal'c's arms released his teammate as they both prepared for a confrontation.

"There will be consequences for this."

The man's voice was little more than a growl. The Colonel's tone matched his for venom, but was eerily, frighteningly low. "Is that a threat?"

A stare-off ensued, long and tense, before the Curate turned to the people behind him. "These people are _inconcetio_ ," he announced, then stormed off through the crowd.

"Do I wanna know what that means?"

Daniel shrugged at his team leader. "It wasn't _so_ bad."

"Hmph." Above them, the locals began to shift, casting secretive glances over their shoulders at the team as they left. "Well, I don't suspect we'll be getting any more help from the natives," Jack said. "Tomorrow we'll start back on the old buildings. For now, we need to get Carter into some dry clothes."

The boy's father got to his feet, gently helping his wife up before gathering his son in his arms. After a long, guilty look toward where Curate Teren had gone, he turned to SG-1. "Thank you," he said softly.

"You're welcome," the Colonel told him. With a nod, the man hurried away with his family. "As I was saying," Jack went on, "dry clothes, warm fire... Carter?"

Her eyes slowly shifted to meet his. "I'm sorry," she murmured, the shivering all but forgotten, "did I just get _scolded_ for _rescuing_ someone?"

"Yes." And because he was just as flummoxed about that as she was, he waggled a teasing finger at her. "Bad Carter. Bad."

With a tight smile, she said, "As I recall, sir, you were about two steps behind me."

"Yes. And when I started, I was at least ten steps ahead of you, but I wasn't going to bring that up."

At least it made her laugh. "Neither was I, sir. Neither was I."


	9. Chapter 9

"Well, at least the weather's nice."

Sam shot the team archaeologist a wry smile as she unrolled her sleeping bag just inside one of the south island ruins. At least the innkeeper had returned their things… even if he'd done so by dumping them in the street. "Sorry, Daniel. I know you wanted more time in that library."

"Hardly your fault," the Colonel grumbled, and she couldn't blame him for his strong (and sudden) dislike of the locals. Granted, she really wanted to be curled up beneath eight or twelve warm blankets at the cozy inn instead of sleeping around a campfire on the southern island, but after the Curate's announcement, SG-1 seemed pretty _persona non grata_ around town.

Finished with her pack, Sam settled near the fire, letting the heat chase away the lingering shivers from earlier. Eyes closed, legs crossed, she basked in the feeling for a long moment.

"So." Colonel O'Neill parked himself across the fire, far further back than she. "See any monsters?"

"No, sir."

"No monsters." The words were dry as bone. "Huh."

She shook her head. "I didn't see much of anything. As nice as it looks on the surface, it's pitch black about ten feet down. And _cold_. God, was it cold."

"In such poor visibility, a creature could have been mere feet from you," Teal'c spoke up.

"Yes. Thank you. That's such a comforting thought." Turning back to the Colonel, she added, "I don't really think there are monsters, sir."

"You don't say."

She absorbed the sarcasm and struck back. "Although my father always used to warn us about the grindylows who lived in cold water and dragged little children into the murky depths."

"Ha! See? Even Sam's on my side," Daniel put in, earning a glare that could put a deep-freeze on Hell.

"You have a thing for swimming in ice water, Carter?" Colonel O'Neill growled.

She shrugged. "Dad was stationed at Sawyer in Michigan for two years. Polar bear swimming was something of a tradition. Cold water generally doesn't bother me. Which is why," she pressed, "I think the Ancients banned the water in the first place."

Even Daniel was a little lost on that one. "Because they find polar bear swimming morally objectionable?"

"Are polar bears not vicious creatures?" Teal'c asked. "To swim with one seems ill-advised." 

"It's not swimming _with_ polar bears," Sam explained patiently. "It's swimming _like_ polar bears. There are big events – people come out in droves to take a dip in water that's only a degree or two above freezing."

The Jaffa didn't even blink. "As I stated – such a thing seems ill-advised."

" _Anyway_ ," she pressed, "I think the Ancients set up that perimeter to avoid exactly this sort of thing. The people here are accustomed to a warm climate, and yet the water is icy cold. In temperatures like that, death from hypothermia could take as little as fifteen minutes – and struggling from panic only speeds up that process. The Curate is right about one thing – the water's a death trap."

"So no monsters."

She shook her head. "That theory probably sprang from ignorance. It was forbidden and unexplored territory."

"And we humans generally fear what we don't understand," Daniel put in. "Like the old maps say – here be monsters."

"But... no monsters," the Colonel repeated, and unless she was mistaken, he sounded just a hair disappointed.

"Sorry, sir. No monsters."


	10. Chapter 10

"Well, they've seen what can happen now," Jack groused, watching the ant-sized people on the main islands from his place on the rocky beach.

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed.

"We warned them." He picked up a stone to send it flying through the section of failed shielding and skipping across the water. Except that he'd always been terrible at skipping rocks, and the one he'd chosen was kind of rough and pointed, and it plopped once and sank.

"Indeed."

Jack threw another one, not even pretending to skip it this time. "We did our good deed; can we go home now? Before I have to watch another kid try and drown?"

"The villagers have been avoiding the failed sections," Teal'c pointed out, offering his friend a pair of binoculars to verify.

He waved them off. "Yeah, I know. One went down on its own and you took one out. But do they get that that's coming for all of them? That there aren't going to be any left? You've seen how they interact with the things, Teal'c; habits are hard to break. They're still playing freakin' handball."

"I am aware."

Shoving to his feet, Jack grumbled, "Daniel better finish soon. 'Cause if we don't get out of here before somebody dies, I'm gonna lose my temper." Toward the emitter pole twenty yards down, he yelled, "Carter, dinner when it's dark."

She waved acknowledgment.

"Let's push Daniel along. We're out of here by lunch tomorrow," he decided and headed for the old library.

~/~

The last bits of daylight glowed through the giant hole that had once been the center of the building's roof. Everything beneath that had been covered in rubble and soaked by the rain that had followed. Most of the windows were long gone, too, leaving the material around them to the same fate. But there were pockets that had stayed dry – some because of their position under the remaining roof edges; some covered by debris. Most of the surviving books had already been removed, but not all, and Teal'c poked around the perimeter in search of intact volumes while Daniel poured through the ones he'd already found.

Jack glared at him from the tilted, cracked slab he'd chosen as a chair. He'd been glaring for almost two hours, since before the sun had even touched the horizon. "Remind me again why I'm supposed to care about this crap."

It earned him only the quickest of scowls before the younger man returned to the book in his lap. "The Ancients? You really want me to answer that? It was a four-hour briefing the first time."

"I remember." Though what Daniel had been blabbing about that whole time, the Colonel had no idea. Restless, he pushed off his perch and meandered left, scanning the rubble in the hopes it might distract him from his hatred of the place. The stacks of volumes that had gotten wet over and over beneath the rubble were disintegrating, and without thinking, he blew the dust off a set with a puff. It made him sneeze. "Give me the thirty-second version, Daniel."

The dirty look that time lasted much longer. "Thousands of years of history in thirty seconds. Well, gee. Once upon a time there was a... Sam."

"Yeah?" Confused but thinking he might like this little fairy tale, Jack meandered back toward Daniel's desk. "Well, go on, for-"

"Sir."

The archaeologist was on his feet, clearly concerned, staring at the woman who'd spoken. Carter stood in the doorway, one hand clutching the frame. Even in the dim light, something was... off. "Sam?" Daniel repeated. "You okay?"

With a long, slow blink, her glassy eyes shifted to Jack. "I changed my mind," she murmured, "about the monsters in the water? I think they might have been right."

And then, before Jack could reach her, she hit the floor.


	11. Chapter 11

For the fortieth time in... however long they'd been there, Daniel sucked in a breath and let it out heavily. Teal'c didn't react from his post beside the infirmary door, but it irked Jack, who shifted his weight and recrossed his arms.

He was being surly, he knew, but he had the right – dragging his unconscious teammates through the Stargate generally left him in a crappy mood. Fear was an emotion he didn't like, and dammit, she'd been so pale, her fever so high...

Yeah, he was pissed at her, and he struggled to remind himself that she'd beaten him to the edge of that island by mere seconds. It could have been him in that water... and him being carried through the Gate. He should be grateful, he supposed, but he couldn't quite get there.

"Gentlemen."

Daniel rocketed out of his chair. "Janet." Teal'c and Jack joined him in the center of the room as the doctor approached.

"You said she was fully submerged in the water?" Janet asked. "For awhile?"

"Indeed. She was in the water for several minutes," the Jaffa supplied.

"Hmm."

"Hmm?" Jack prompted. Was she okay, or not?

"There's some sort of parasite in her bloodstream, and my guess is that the water's teeming with it. It could have gotten in through the mucous membranes or any contact with bodily fluids." Her eyes flicked to the Colonel. "It could be spread that way, too."

There was something odd in that look that Jack didn't like, but he tamped down his irritation and made his voice flat as possible when he asked, "How's Carter?"

He failed miserably, sounding grumpy and impatient even to his own ears.

"We're taking steps to bring her fever down," she said evenly. "Quinine seemed to help in the lab; we're starting Sam on it and continuing to test for something more effective. But there's a pretty broad range of antiparasitics and antibiotics out there. I have every reason to believe she'll be fine."

Yet again, the breath escaped Daniel with a whoosh – this time, in relief. Jack could understand the feeling.

"Should the boy not also be ill?" Teal'c asked.

Janet raised an eyebrow. "Isn't he?"

"Didn't exactly get a chance to check," the Colonel answered dryly. In fact, he hadn't even considered it – hadn't thought of anything but Carter from the moment she'd collapsed.

"I imagine he is," the doctor went on. "Depending on his age, he could be far sicker than Sam already. He needs treatment."

Jack nodded. "We'll bring him in."

"Actually, you won't."

Instantly, his mood soured again. "And why's that?"

"Because I got the blood tests back on you three. Teal'c and Doctor Jackson are in the clear, but you, sir, are not."

Teal'c blinked. "O'Neill did not go into the water."

"No, but Sam's probably contagious."

Daniel caught the reference first and stepped a little bit away, eyeing Jack with amused suspicion. "And what bodily fluids were you and Sam swapping last night, exactly?"

"I gave the kid mouth-to-mouth," he growled back.

Janet's expression was smug. "So Teal'c and Doctor Jackson can head back to that planet, but you have an appointment with me and some really big needles."

"Excellent," Jack said as the other two headed out. "Just great."


	12. Chapter 12

Jack felt like death.

Not death enough for an infirmary bed, thankfully, or even one of those IV poles he'd have to drag around and shuttle into the bathroom and generally despise. But death enough to have his forearms crossed on the mattress beside Sam Carter's right hip and his head down on top of them.

Maybe he looked like death, too, but not compared to her. She was all but translucent, shiny with sweat even though there were cooling pads over her thighs and tucked under her arms. They couldn't let her fever get too high, they'd said; they would rather fight the parasites with medication than an uncontrolled fever. But she was breathing on her own, her pulse steady, and they kept telling him she was in better shape than she looked.

Which was good, because last he'd checked – last he'd undertaken the immense effort of raising his head – she'd looked freakin' awful.

She made a soft sound, and Jack carefully propped himself on his elbows to look at her. "Carter?"

It took a long, long moment for her eyes to open, stabilize, and focus on him. Even then, they were half-lidded. "Hey," he tried. "Welcome back."

She blinked, puzzling through that with the tiny percentage of brain power she could muster. But, as usual, that was ten times more than Jack could have, and she curled to her elbows in an attempt to sit up as she gasped, "The boy."

"Yeah, we know. They're going to get him," he soothed. "Take it easy."

Glancing at him to verify the truth in his eyes, Carter slumped back against the pillow. Even that tiny movement had cost her; she sucked in deep breaths for a moment to replenish herself. But still, she watched him. "You sick?"

"Yeah," he told her, leaning his head into one hand because it was getting way too heavy to stay up on its own. "Not as sick as you, though. How're you feeling?"

"Cold," she breathed.

Her temperature read 104.1. "Sorry," he said simply. "Try to get some sleep."

The moment she closed her eyes, Jack gave up and put his head back down.

~/~

Teal'c charged up the steps from the middle island to the plaza, seemingly unaware of the people who skittered away from him, and Daniel wondered if he'd gotten so used to that reaction as a Jaffa that he didn't even notice anymore. "Where is the child?" the older man demanded.

The problem with Teal'c's gruff approach, of course, was that it didn't work. "The boy who fell in the water," Daniel clarified, kinder. "We're trying to help him."

That didn't work, either; people tried to ignore them as they left a wide berth.

"He's sick," Daniel pressed. "We can help him. Please just tell us where he is."

She surely meant it to be inconspicuous, but both SG-1 members caught the flash of a woman's hand that pointed them toward the island to their left, and they hurried down the steps and across the bridge. There were far fewer people on the other side… and they were far less afraid of Teren's prying eyes, apparently. They kept less distance, though they certainly didn't approach. "Where is the child?" Teal'c demanded again, because his manners hadn't improved in the last hundred feet of jogging.

"Fourth house on the left," a man told them, pointing down a row of homes.

The didn't really need the number, as it turned out; they could hear the boy's mother weeping through the front door. Daniel knocked, but that was far too passive for Teal'c, who shoved the door open and let himself inside. It was a single room with a bed and a tiny kitchen surrounding the fireplace, and three adults looked up as they entered.

"How dare you show your faces here?" Teren demanded. "This boy is dying."

"We tried to save him!" Daniel cried back. "We're _still_ trying to save him!"

"Leave," the Curate ordered.

"Listen to me." The archaeologist targeted his parents that time, huddled around their pale son. "The water had little bugs in it. That's what's making him sick. We have doctors that can help him. If you come with us through the Stargate-"

The woman gasped and pulled her son closer.

"I told you to leave!" Teren ordered.

"We're trying to help you," Daniel pressed again. "Please. Your son doesn't have to die."

"If it is the will of the gods, he will live." The Curate's voice was just as certain. Until Teal'c stepped over and physically lifted the man out of the way, pushing him aside to kneel on the bed beside the sick child.

"Teal'c?" Daniel asked, his stomach growing uneasy as the Jaffa easily lifted the boy into his arms. "What are you doing?"

"I am taking him to the SGC," he said simply.

"You cannot do that!" the Curate insisted.

Teal'c's eyes, when they met the smaller man's, were icy cold. "I refuse to let this child die from ignorance and superstition."

"Teal'c..."

"And if O'Neill were here," he pressed, turning the same frigid gaze to Daniel as he strode out of the house, "he would do the same."

Well, the implication of that stung a bit, but Daniel was too busy half-sprinting after his teammate to worry about it, glancing uncomfortably back at Teren and the parents who huddled together behind him, terrified. "Look, I agree with you, but-"

"Dial the Stargate," the Jaffa ordered.

"Teal'c."

"Dial the Stargate or I will do so myself."

"You cannot just kidnap their son!" the Curate wheezed, struggling to keep up with them. "You have no authority here. Return him immediately."

But Teal'c kept moving, and as much as Daniel wanted permission from the boy's parents, he was going to have to settle for their lack of objection. The Jaffa had that look on his face that said only a staff weapon would stop him.

"You cannot defy the will of your gods!" Teren cried.

The alien spun on him, vicious. "I _have_ ," he growled, "and I will certainly do so again."


	13. Chapter 13

Jack forced one foot in front of the other, a white hand clutching the guardrail as he climbed the steps to the observation rooms. Damn, he hated being sick, and it seemed to be getting worse instead of better. Die off, the doc had called it – well, actually, she'd first called it something fancier that he couldn't remember – and either way, it was too horrible to think about too hard. Luckily, his target was the first room at the top, and he leaned against the door frame as Carter had done on that planet the day before, trying to look smooth.

It didn't matter. Teal'c didn't so much as glance his way, his gaze steady out the window.

"You know there's gonna be fallout from this."

The alien was silent a moment. "I was unaware you were allowed to leave the infirmary."

"Yeah, well, I haven't _technically_ left." Jack was pretty sure he could see one dark eyebrow twitch in the glassy reflection. His knees were growing weaker, though, and he lurched for a chair and sank into it. "Still. Hammond's gonna get crap for how this went down, and you know how it all rolls downhill." When Teal'c still didn't respond, he pressed, "You can't just kidnap a kid from his parents. Even if they're really, really dumb."

Two cool, dark eyes settled on him for a moment, suspicious, before returning to the glass. Jack followed his gaze, watching the medical team hover over the small, pale body below. "That said," he told his friend, clapping him as high up on the back as he could reach from his chair, "good job."

The twitch in his cheek was small, but the Jaffa was definitely smiling.

~/~

"He's in really bad shape," Janet told General Hammond and the men of SG-1 – including Jack O'Neill, who had regained enough color to look only half-dead instead of completely dead. "Sam has a better developed immune system _and_ received treatment sooner, so the parasites had less of a chance to replicate. The boy is _really_ sick. The good news is that we have a head start. With all the testing we've done on Sam, we've already figured out the best treatment protocol."

"Is he going to make it, Doctor?" Hammond asked.

"I think so, yes. We've already managed to bring his fever down and stabilize him. Obviously, things can go wrong, and there are secondary issues to look for, but he has a good shot."

"May I sit with him?" Teal'c asked, and at her nod, disappeared further into the infirmary.

"This problem isn't gonna go away, sir," Jack said, sliding down in the chair enough to rest his head against the wall behind him. "He won't be the last kid to fall in the water. And they didn't even try to fish him out."

"Can Major Carter repair the shield generators?" the older man asked with a furrowed brow.

Daniel shook his head. "She didn't seem to think so."

"Hm," Hammond mused, glancing up at Doctor Fraiser. "Well, we can't keep them from falling into the water, and the SGC is hardly a lifeguard service."

The doctor nodded. "But we can certainly supply them with anti-parasitics. Anyone exposed to the water could be treated immediately with a pill, like we do for malaria. We'd need a little bit more information to formulate the best dosage, but it's certainly possible."

"That information may need to wait a few days, with two members of SG-1 out of commission. And I suspect we've lost Teal'c for awhile," Hammond said speculatively.

"I think it should wait, sir," Daniel said. "We need something to show them to prove this will work. So far, we've made a lot of promises and shown them nothing."

"Understood. Doctor Fraiser, keep me updated," the General ordered as he got to his feet. "And Colonel O'Neill – get back in bed."


	14. Chapter 14

SG-1 emerged through the wormhole to find that the active gate had attracted quite a crowd – all of whom suddenly found something else to do once they'd identified the visitors. Teal'c's arm strong beneath Sam's, the team made their way across the bridge and up the steps to the plaza.

"For cryin' out loud, it's like we're lepers," Jack growled as the locals shifted, trying to ignore SG-1 while maintaining a solid thirty-foot distance. "Inconsequential, my fat butt."

" _Inconcetio_ ," Daniel corrected automatically. "And leper is pretty close. Remember, as far as they're concerned, Sam's the walking dead."

" _Walking_ is such a strong word," the Major murmured, deflating to a puddle on one of the benches. Even the short walk from the Stargate had been a struggle – she belonged in the infirmary. But they had a point to make, and she was determined to press on.

Jack shrugged. "The doc did a pretty good job with the makeup. You don't look awful."

It was true – her skin looked almost its normal shade, her lips had lost their blue tinge, and the red rims of her eyes had been skillfully camouflaged. Still, the wilting look she gave him was nothing compared to Daniel's glare. "Sometimes I find it hard to believe you were ever actually married, Jack."

"Yeah, well, I'm not anymore," the Colonel shot back acerbically. "So there."

" _You_!" Curate Teren shoved through the crowd, seething. It was a good thing he stopped fifteen feet back, not only because the three men of SG-1 weren't about to let him within arm's reach of Carter, but because he was so angry spit came flying from his lips as he yelled. "You are not welcome here! You have defied our gods and our laws. You have brought the end on us all!"

"Yeah, sure, you betcha," Jack drawled before turning his attention to the crowd. "Listen to me: the water wasn't banned because it's cursed or evil or whatever you think. It was banned because it's full of parasites – tiny little bugs that can get into your blood and make you sick. But we have the cure. You saw us haul Carter out of here unconscious, and look at her now." To his inestimable relief, she managed to get to her feet and stay there. As far back as the villagers were, they probably didn't even see the way she swayed a little. Probably. "Our doctors are still treating the boy, but he's awake and talking. He's going to be fine."

"Liars!" the Curate accused.

Teal'c took one solid step forward. "His name is Seta. The boy he was playing with is his cousin. They are both eleven years of age."

The tiny man shrank back to maintain the distance. "You cannot be trusted. You carry the mark of the demon."

"Well, I don't," Daniel offered, glancing through the crowd until he found the pair he was looking for. "Your son misses you, and I know you're worried about him. We'll be happy to take you to see him, if you'd like."

"Daniel, she's sick," Sam said softly from behind him. "They both are."

He looked again. He'd put off the way she leaned into her husband as insecurity, but his teammate was right: neither of them looked stable. Redness lined their eyes. "Your son was contagious," Daniel explained across the distance. "That means he passed the parasites that made him sick on to you." As a gasp went through the crowd, he pressed, "But we can help you, too. Come back through the Stargate with us. You can see your son, and our doctors will heal you."

" _It is forbidden_!" Teren raged, and Jack had to wonder if that was written down somewhere, too, or if the little man had made it up on the spot. "You heathens have brought the wrath of the gods on all of us! You have put a plague on this city."

"I think you're hyperbolizing a bit, don't you?" Jack's tone was salty. "Two people? A plague?"

"Nearly thirty people have fallen ill from your wickedness!"

O'Neill turned to his scientist. "How?"

"Thirty?" Daniel pressed. "Have more fallen in the water? Or... or... had it to drink, or-"

" _It is the reckoning_!"

"I am going to injure him," Teal'c warned quietly.

"Oh, my God."

The exclamation was little more than a breath, and Jack spun to his sick teammate in concern. "What?"

"It's the women," Carter told him. "Look at the women. And Teren."

Turning back to the villagers, the team leader scanned them for a moment in confusion and realized she was right. Seta's parents were sickest by a long shot, but several other women looked pale, too, a few shiny with sweat. And when he glanced at the Curate, he realized the furious red blotches on the man's face faded to sheer white and he looked a little unsteady on his feet. "Well, I'll be damned."

"What?" Daniel asked, biting off a retort from the man in question.

"Let me explain how this thing spreads," Jack offered the villagers instead, "because I got called on it, myself. These tiny little bugs, they make it in through cracks in your skin. Your eyes, your mouth. They can be spread from person to person that way, too. By caring for your sick son," he told Seta's parents. "Or by close contact. _Intimate_ contact."

"Jack," the archaeologist warned, suddenly sure where this was heading.

O'Neill ignored him. "So I'd like to know exactly what kind of screwed up religion you're practicing here, where the strangers who save one of your children from certain death are condemned by the same man who's sleeping with all of your wives."

For all he knew, that was common knowledge. But apparently not, as Teren started yelling at him and the villagers erupted, spinning on each other.

"Have you been unfaithful to me?" one of the men in the front row demanded – though it was in concert with half a dozen others.

"It was for the blessing," the woman beside him defended anxiously. "It strengthens him. It-"

"Oh, gross," Sam muttered.

Even Daniel, the cultural relativist, agreed uncomfortably, "This is so wrong."

"Okay, okay!" Carter yelled, her voice pathetically weak over the din. "He wouldn't have to sleep with them. Just kissing would do it. Or... other things."

"Geez," the archaeologist complained.

Jack shrugged. "I would have pronounced that word differently."

His second in command groaned.

"Look," Jack called sharply as the din started to rise again, "what you do with your twisted little 'representative of God made flesh' or whatever isn't my problem, although I know what _I'd_ do to him if it were my wife he were blackmailing. You don't need his blessing – or whatever – to get our help. We can bring doctors. Medicines. And we can teach you what to do if it happens again. Because the shields around these islands are failing. Seta was the first to fall in the water, but he won't be the last. It doesn't need to be a death sentence when it happens. All you have to do is accept our help."

"These heathens challenge our very way of life!" Teren protested.

" _Quiet_." Of all people, Seta's father took a tiny step forward. "You no longer speak for me. These 'heathens' have saved my son, and now they offer to save my wife and the rest of my children. What have you done for me?"

"I would save your immortal soul."

"You would condemn everything I love to die. I do not believe that is what the gods want of me. And if it is, then I do not want _them_. Or you." To Jack, he said, "I would like to see my son. I would very much appreciate your help."

"As would I," another man said. "My son went to visit Seta and is very ill, himself."

"The sick women could spread it in the food they prepare, sir," Carter spoke up. "My guess is a lot of children just aren't showing symptoms yet."

Jack nodded. "We'll have help here within the hour. Even for you," he offered Curate Teren, "though if I were you, I'm not sure I'd stick around that long. Daniel, dial the Gate." To Seta's parents, he said, "Come on. I'll take you to your son."

Turning to go, he ended up face to face with his second, who sank back onto the bench and said, "You know, I, uh... I think I'll stay."

It took a few blinks before he understood – they'd just told these people they could cure them. And that was true. But she was still very, very sick, and her path back down the steps wouldn't be easy. And watching her falter would hardly help bolster the villagers' spirits.

"I will remain, as well," Teal'c said, taking the spot beside her.

"Okay. I'll leave Daniel, too. Heads up," he warned the Jaffa. "I don't trust Teren as far as Carter could throw him."

"Indeed."

With a nod, Jack headed for the Gate.


	15. Chapter 15

Jack snagged a bowl of some scrumptious-smelling meat thing from the long table set up to cater to the SGC personnel and headed toward the medical tents. Only one of the five held patients now; most people had been released to their homes and just came in for checkups and testing. The children had bounced back the fastest – at least two of the boys playing Frisbee had been in treatment a few days before.

As usual, the wind caught the disc and sent it toward the water. But there would be no man overboard this time, even as the toy flew over the benches; a watchful father caught his son's arm and shook his head. The disc was gone and the game was over. Disappointed, the boys followed the older man toward the bridge to the next island and home. It was nearly sunset, anyway, and the rest of the plaza was quiet.

He'd been wrong, Jack thought. _Two_ of the five tents held patients. Ducking into the SGC staff's break tent, he held out the bowl of stew and waggled his eyebrows at the woman who started to push her way to sitting. "Mystery meat?"

"Don't make it sound so appetizing, sir." Careful of the needle taped to her arm, though the tube wasn't attached to it anymore, she swung her knees over the edge of the cot. It made room for Jack, who plopped down next to her. "I'm still not very hungry."

"Yes, well, you need your strength. Eat up."

She made a face, but accepted the bowl and took a bite. And made another face.

"Everybody's gone home for the night. You ready to make your escape?" he asked her.

Her head bobbed in a nod. "I can probably even do it under my own steam."

"Ooh. Impressive."

"I know, right? As long as I don't get dizzy on the stairs and tumble back into the water."

With a chuckle, he said, "I'll catch you this time. I promise."

"You're so good to me, sir," she told him dryly. Then, "When we get home I get two weeks of quality time with my pillow, right?"

"Oh, absolutely. Your pillow will _love_ the ruins on P5X-779."

She pressed her lips together. "Yeah. When's that?"

"Tuesday. If we leave now, you can have just under seventy-two hours curled up with your teddy bear."

Setting her dinner aside, Carter pressed to her feet. Her left arm automatically curled to let Jack grab her elbow. Her desire for independence hadn't yet reasserted itself beyond her desire to remain upright. "It's just not long enough, sir. He gets so lonely."

"Understandable."

She eyed him as they stepped out of the tent, trying to figure out if that was meant to be a dirty comment. But the lights were dim and he'd always had a good deadpan, and she came up empty. "If Janet tries to keep me in the infirmary, sir, I swear-"

"Carter," he interrupted, not stopping their slow progression toward the Gate, "what kind of crappy CO do you think I am? Cassie has a soccer game tonight. Doc Fraiser just left."

Jack took the left side of the steps, well aware that the space next to him no longer had a force shield. Both of them held on to the rail – but he kept a hand on her, too.

"Here be monsters," she mused, looking out over the dark ripples.

"Yeah," he said. "Let's go home."

"Yes, sir."


End file.
